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Marryat, Frederick, 1792-1848

"Peter Simple and The Three Cutters, Vol. 1"

He says that these books, except _Frank Mildmay,_
are "wholly fictitious in characters, in plot, and in events," but they
are none the less truthful pictures of his life at sea. Cochrane's
_Autobiography_ contains a history of the _Imperieuse_; it is from
_Peter Simple_ and his companions that we must learn what Marryat
thought and suffered while on board.
Under Cochrane he cruised along the coast of France from Ushant to the
mouth of the Gironde, saw some active service in the Mediterranean, and,
after a return to the ocean, was finally engaged in the Basque Roads. A
page of his private log contains a lively _resume_ of the whole
experience:--
"The cruises of the _Imperieuse_ were periods of continual excitement,
from the hour in which she hove up her anchor till she dropped it
again in port; the day that passed without a shot being fired in
anger, was to us a blank day: the boats were hardly secured on the
booms than they were cast loose and out again; the yard and stay
tackles were forever hoisting up and lowering down. The expedition
with which parties were formed for service; the rapidity of the
frigate's movements night and day; the hasty sleep snatched at all
hours; the waking up at the report of the guns, which seemed the only
keynote to the hearts of those on board, the beautiful precision of
our fire, obtained by constant practice; the coolness and courage of
our captain, inoculating the whole of the ship's company; the
suddenness of our attacks, the gathering after the combat, the killed
lamented, the wounded almost envied; the powder so burnt into our face
that years could not remove it; the proved character of every man and
officer on board, the implicit trust and adoration we felt for our
commander; the ludicrous situations which would occur in the extremest
danger and create mirth when death was staring you in the face, the
hair-breadth escapes, and the indifference to life shown by all--when
memory sweeps along these years of excitement even now, my pulse beats
more quickly with the reminiscence.


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